Slayer, Savior, Sinner
by darkmask133
Summary: Owing to his newly severed hand, Jaime requires a teacher to help him fight again. Little does he know, Alina Cerwyn is not the typical teacher. Nor does he know she is the escaped fiancee of Ramsay Snow. Rated M for later.
1. Center of Attention

**Well. A new story. I hope you will all like it. Please leave a review. Im a bit nervous, as always, when I start a new fanfiction. I am well aware that in the show, Jaime is trained by Bronn, and in the books, by Sir Ilyn Payne. But again, this is fanfiction. So I hope you will not curse and damn me to the deepest of the Seven Hells. So please enjoy, follow if you wish, and as always, a review would make my night. :)**

The last of the summer sun shone, dazzling in front of Jaime Lannister's eyes, nearly blinding him as it danced and sparkled off the sea.

While Jaime appreciated the fact that his brother Tyrion had undertaken the task of finding him a discreet swordsman to help Jaime after his…crippling, Jaime felt the whole of the situation was depressing. Seven Hells, it wasn't just depressing it was humiliating. Jaime Lannister, the infamous Kingslayer, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, unable to slay even a pigeon.

How on earth was he supposed to see anything with this kind of environment? As he waited for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, a single dark speck started to come into view. There wasn't a single hint of color. Black. With a jolt, Jaime realized it was a woman. Judging by the silk of her dress…a noblewoman it seemed. Had he gotten the wrong instruction? No. No Tyrion's instructions were very clear. Was it a joke?

She was standing close to the edge of where the sea lapped at the stone foundation. Her hair was as black as her dress except for a single white streak. Her fingers moved to the front of her dress, starting to undo the ties that held it in place.

Jaime quickly considered the options:

1. She was a widow, in mourning, judging by the black silk. She was going to throw herself into the sea and end her misery.

2. Tyrion was playing a joke, with the good intent of making him feel better, and had hired a whore from a nearby brothel.

Jaime never doubted he could swim but now with one hand of solid flesh and the other of gilded steel, it might be a bit difficult.

"Whoawhoahey" he immediately approached her, moving to touch her hand. His metal facsimile of a hand hovered in the air between them, reminding him yet again of his handicap. The young woman turned her head. Her eyes were a vivid intense blue, her skin a pale complexion that was a bit uncommon for such a sunny region as Kings Landing. Yet those eyes rather made Jaime uncomfortable. They got under his skin and not in a good way.

"You…You don't want to do this" he said. He had to approach this carefully. Women could be quite difficult. She lifted her chin slightly and tilted her head as if to say _Do what?_

It would be terribly rude to ask her if she was a whore. Yet no whore was dressed as fine as she was. Jaime quickly decided to just settle on her apparently suicidal wish.

"I'm a good swimmer and will jump in after you if I must" he said. Then…she smiled. It was not a nice smile. It was…scary, mocking and cold as she started to laugh. Her head tilted toward the sun as if she were mocking its light and warmth. Jaime felt a chill run up his spine. Third option then, she was a nobleman's daughter clearly escaped from an asylum or her rightfully imposed seclusion in her father's household.

The smile slid from her face as quickly as it had formed and she regarded him once more.

"Well from someone who reportedly fucks his own sister, I knew I couldn't expect much in the way of intelligence" she snapped quite harshly. Jaime was a bit taken back…even more so when she smacked his fake hand away from her. It was enough to cause a slight vibration up to his elbow.

She continued to untie her dress until she shrugged it off her shoulders. It fell in a heap around her ankles. Still in black, she wore a form fitting black shirt with no sleeves, leaving her arms bare. Black leather pants that accentuated her slim legs and dark leather boots on her feet. A sheathed sword hung from the belt around her waist.

Seven Hells. No. No. No. Jaime prayed a fervent prayer to the Old and New Gods that this was not happening.

"Did they cut out your tongue as well?" she asked. As Jaime stumbled a bit over his words, still in shock, she continued; "You may call me Alina. That is all you may call me. Should you wish to call me anything insulting, I would advise you do it not in my presence"

Jaime finally found his tongue

"Who…" Her gaze snapped to him once more. Jaime swallowed again. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Hmm perhaps they dropped you on your head when you were little" Alina's voice was bitter and sarcastic.

Flustered, Jaime replied;

"I meant what are you doing here?"

"Hmm. Well Tyrion's clearly smarter than you. He's the Halfman and you're the Halfwit" she smirked. Her and Jaime stared at one another in silence. Jaime was still trying to take in the situation before him. "But because of his kindness, I will not charge extra"

"So he paid you to-to…" Jaime sighed, covering his eyes. It was enough that he was not even half of the expert swordsman he once was. It was enough to know that he had fathered Joffrey and had pushed a ten year old boy from a window. He was vilified for being the savior of Kings Landing when he slaughtered the Mad King he had sworn to protect in order to do so.

But if anyone found out he was receiving help in swordsmanship from a woman... Jaime might as well throw himself into the sea anyway and spare himself the ignominy. He'd never hear the end of it. Tywin, Cersei, the whole of Kings Landing, hell the whole goddamned Seven Kingdoms.

Well the woman Alina was clearly mad. He would have to take gentle steps to get himself out of this. Turn on the charm. He could be charming.

"Now what's a fair young maiden doing with such a sharp tool?"

Women liked to be complimented, didn't they?

Alina unsheathed her blade. It was as black as the rest of what she wore.


	2. Sail

**Follow if you wish. I hope you like this. And please forgive me if certain events are not in sync with each other. I think Robb Stark is still alive in this one. He might have to be for what I have planned later.**

While it was perfectly within his rights, as a Lannister, to dine with his sister, dear old Father Tywin, the insufferable bully of a king Joffrey and his far-too good for him betrothed Margery Tyrell along with a few others, Tyrion Lannister preferred to have dinner with much more suitable company.

Podrick Payne was a good lad. And though he was willing to do anything Tyrion asked, Tyrion thought of him as one of the few friends he had in Kings Landing. Brienne of Tarth was also good company. Sansa preferred to dine on her own. His brother Jaime ate with them as well but he was running late…or so Tyrion thought until he heard the audible approaching footsteps and the slamming open of the door.

Drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and with quite the cut above his eye that was steadily running blood down his face, Jaime gave the appearance that he had scared quite a few ladies in waiting on the way here. He was clearly unhappy.

"Weren't you supposed to use sparring swords?" Tyrion asked, as if his brother's anger wasn't clearly visible to all in the room.

Jaime swallowed, so angry he could hardly speak.

"You…hired a northern…bitch?!" he growled.

"Well with that attitude I can see why she opted for a sharper edge. You must be parched and have worked up an appetite. You'll feel better once you eat" Tyrion gestured at the table.

"What happened to your head?" Brienne asked, startled.

"Sir Jaime started training with his left hand today" Tyrion said good-naturedly.

"You'll get better in time" Brienne consoled. "Come sit down"

"I do hope you didn't make too much of an impression"

"Me?!" Jaime snarled. "I tried to pay the bitch off; I tried being nice and she-!"

Jaime stopped at seeing the rather horrified looks on Tyrion and Brienne's face, and the intrigued look on Pod's. He didn't look too bloodied did he? Then he noticed. They weren't looking at him. They were looking behind him. And instead of the usual four chairs…there were five at the table. He also hadn't heard the door shut behind him.

Slowly…he turned around.

Fuck.

Cool, calm, collected, and not a single hair out of place was Alina. She had had enough time to change into a grey silk dress. Did she still have that black getup on underneath? With her ebony colored hair, save for the white streak, she could have passed for a noblewoman.

She regarded him silently for a moment, ignoring everyone else but Jaime. For a minute he thought she might go for his throat. Instead she gave a subtle tilt of her head;

"You'll want to clean that Sir Jaime" was her calm response. It was almost gentle considering the sharp biting tone Alina had used earlier. Then she walked swiftly past him as if he was invisible. Jaime was practically rooted to the spot.

"My lord Lannister" Alina said, nothing but respect filling her tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her gently bow her head.

"This is Podrick Payne, cousin to the Kings Justice, and the finest squire in all of Kings Landing. And it is my honor to introduce Brienne of Tarth, a most noble swordswoman as yourself" Tyrion replied before turning in his seat a bit to address Jaime; "Come sit down brother. You enjoy lamb don't you?"

Jaime's remaining hand curled into a fist. He wasn't about to flee from this, from a woman. He'd been through much worse. But it didn't mean he wanted to sit across from a Northern savage.

Reluctantly he threw himself into the chair next to Brienne, avoiding Alina's gaze. Though he was quite sure she was ignoring him as well.

Podrick looked like he was going to swallow his own tongue at sitting next to the striking woman. Everything about her was sharp and rigid. But in the light of the room, she seemed…different.

It was a tense silence as Jaime stabbed at his lamb dinner until Brienne gently moved the plate away to cut it for him. Jaime could hardly stand this. Now Alina could see he couldn't even manage dinner correctly. She had already laid out quite the list of his flaws earlier that evening.

"Do I get in on the secret?" he said grumpily after a bit, glaring at Tyrion. "Where did you find her?" he said, turning his glare to Alina. She merely blinked.

"Tyrion saved me. I owe him a debt. That's all you need to know" she replied.

"Most women would just spread themselves and be done with it" Jaime retorted.

Tyrion chuckled awkwardly while Podrick choked on his wine.

"You must forgive my brother's lack of manners. He's still adjusting to his…situation" Tyrion looked apologetically at Alina. Alina appeared unfazed by the comment but Jaime noticed her hand was slowly curled into a fist.

"Well if he has his mind so set on bedding than he should consider himself lucky that it's only a hand that he lost" she replied, looking at Jaime over the rim of her cup.

In an effort to turn the conversation into a less awkward and less offensive one, Brienne pushed Jaime's plate back so he could eat effectively now and asked;

"So where did you receive your training? You must be skilled if you caught lord Tyrion's eye"

"Sir Rodrik Cassel…as I understand it he's dead now"

"You can't have grown up far from Winterfell then" Brienne replied, polite yet happy to know a woman she could find some common ground with.

"I haven't been there for quite a long time. With the war going on, I don't expect I should return"

"Ever see any of the Starks? Well the living ones" Jaime asked which earned him looks from both Tyrion and Brienne. "What? It's a question. I'm not asking if she's a traitor"

"Because all Northerners are traitors" Alina murmured "You're dripping onto your plate" she added.

Huffing, Jaime dropped his fork and grabbed the cloth napkin, lifting it to his face.

"I don't suppose I get an apology?" he grumbled.

"No you don't" Alina sighed before turning to Tyrion "I'm sorry my lord. I don't feel well. I'd like to turn in for the night if you don't mind"

"Not at all my lady. I hope the meal was to your satisfaction" Tyrion smiled. Alina pushed her chair back.

"I'll escort the lady to her chambers" Jaime threw down the bloody napkin and rose to his feet as well.

"That won't be necessary" Alina replied.

"Nonsense I insist. See I do have manners" said Jaime.

Instead of throwing something sharp at her pupil, Alina simply left the room, not waiting for Jaime to follow. Wiping his face once more, Jaime soon did.

"I don't think I quite remember your house being mentioned" Jaime said as they walked down the halls.

Alina didn't reply.

"In fact for someone who seems to know so much about me, I don't know anything about you"

"And it will stay that way"

"Oh I don't think that's fair" Jaime hissed.

"Who said life was?" Alina retorted smoothly, walking on, not looking at him.

"Look whatever my brother has paid you, I'll double it. Neither of us should have to suffer this farce"

"You mean you wouldn't have to suffer. He gave me a job and I intend to finish it. Gold is of little importance"

"How about a hand? Gilded steel? The hand of the Kingslayer would fetch a fair price. Or you could use it to pleasure your-!"

Jaime suddenly found himself roughly up against a wall with Alina's silk clad elbow digging lightly into his neck.

"Are you that desperate?" she growled.

"Well-"

"You don't know desperate. So you lost a hand. That's not desperation, it's a mere inconvenience. Some might say the Gods are giving justice for what you've done. Desperate is trying to scream when someone's hands are around your throat as you beg and hope for help that you know won't come. And even if the air comes, it might not be worth the level of pathetic your world has been reduced to"

She dug her arm a little tighter. Jaime knew he could probably push her off of him, even with one hand. But he was distracted by what he thought was a faint glimmer of pain in her eyes.

"Same time tomorrow. And you will show up even if I have to drag your ass down there and I don't care who sees. It might even do you good. Clean your fucking face and don't test me"

Her eyes were hardened again, yielding nothing. She didn't even look back before disappearing around a corner.


	3. A Bird Without Feathers

**Hello again. This one is a tad shorter than usual. Yet with a softer tone. Enjoy :)**

The scream was short, but it woke Brienne from her sleep all the same. Putting her ear to the wall of her room, she faintly heard the heavy rapid breathing from someone who sounded like they were doing their best not to cry.

Lighting a candle, she went into the dimly lit hall. It was strange. As far as Brienne was aware, the room next to her was unoccupied. Tentatively she stepped inside as the door was open just a crack.

The room was sparsely furnished. A window and a bed. Sitting on the edge, holding a pillow to their face, was someone. Still somewhat addled with sleep, Brienne slowly recognized the faint streak of white in the darkness as she approached. She felt a chill as she stepped into a puddle of something cold and wet. Looking down, a pitcher was on the floor, having spilled its contents of water.

"Alina?" she said as quietly as she could. Silence ensued for a bit.

"So…Lord Tyrion thinks me a bird with a broken wing" she said after setting the pillow down.

"Are you alright?" Brienne asked. Alina gave a short bitter laugh.

"I'm breathing. Yet sometimes that alone is nothing"

"Might I ask what is troubling you?"

"A nightmare. Nothing more nothing less" Alina replied flatly. From her tone, it appeared as if she wanted Brienne to go away. But the look on Alina's face kept Brienne where she was. It was a haunted look.

"We all get them" Brienne said gently. Alina passed a hand over her eyes, then lowered it to her mouth. She sighed again.

"You'd think there's relief in waking up"

"I don't suppose there's anything I can do?" she asked.

"You can keep your mouth shut about this. As far as you are concerned, this room is empty" Alina sighed.

The silence between them was so thick, Brienne felt she could've reached out and touched it. She considered her words carefully, mulling them over in her mind, wondering if she dared to speak them. Brienne then decided that she did dare.

"You're doing a good thing you know" she verbalized.

Brienne wasn't sure it was the darkness of the room around them that filled Alina's eyes as she slowly met Brienne's stare.

"I'm…sorry?"

"With Ser Jaime…I know…I know he's not…he's different"

"I owe Tyrion and I don't do it for the gold or for the sake of a cripple" Alina swallowed.

"He may surprise you…I might not be standing here were it not for him"

"I didn't ask for a bedtime story" Alina meant to snap, but her heart wasn't quite in it.

"What I mean is…Whatever you've heard about him…He has changed" Brienne's eyes had had more time to adjust. Alina was visibly yet subtly shaking. Brienne fought the desire to reach out and comfort her. But she had the feeling Alina wouldn't take too kindly to a stranger's consolation.

"Well I expect if you lost a hand, one would be" Alina was clearly wanting to be left alone.

"Did he tell you how he lost it?"

"No more than he told me how he slew the Mad King" Alina sighed again, lifting a hand to rub her neck.

"He saved me from men who sought to take advantage" Brienne wasn't sure whether to be hard or soft with this woman. But at this, Alina's fingers on her neck stopped and her darkened gaze met Brienne's once more.

"With…your size I'd think…" There was just a hint of softness to her razor edged voice as well as confusion.

"My arms were bound…Sometimes I still think what might've happened had it not been for him"

Alina didn't respond. She swallowed again but stood and slowly took a step towards Brienne. Her tone was almost normal. She thought to take another step, but ended up with one foot in the puddle she'd made in her restlessness.

"Count your blessings Lady Brienne" Alina cleared her throat "I…appreciate you telling me this…But I'd like to manage some semblance of sleep before the dawn comes"

Brienne nodded. She was half turned away when;

"And Brienne?"

She turned her face back to Alina's.

"Don't expect me to go easy on him"

In the darkness, Brienne swore that Alina's face bore the faintest resemblance of a smile. Brienne returned it with a nod of her head and a smile of her own.

"Good"


	4. Don't Choose That

**Hello again :) Follows and reviews are much appreciated, like this iced latte Im sipping. Please enjoy :)**

Winter is coming.

Yes those were the Stark words. Yet as Jaime went on his way down the Street of Flour, the site of numerous bakeries, he couldn't help but resent his Kingsguard armor. Simple as it was, white cloak, enameled scales, it was bloody hot on a day like this. Where was the fabled winter or at least a nice breeze?

And as if that wasn't enough, on Joffrey's command, he-Jaime Lannister, Lord Commander of the esteemed Kingsguard…was delivering a bakery order for His Grace's wedding feast. Jaime knew it wouldn't do well to dwell on the past and his former martial prowess…but he couldn't help but feel a bit…useless. This was servant's work. But Joffrey did have a vicious streak about him so this could have been a lot worse.

Jaime didn't know which was the lesser of the two evils: This task or the fact that he had sired such a monster as Joffrey. Clearly the Gods had a sick sense of humor when it came to penance.

This was quite the list. But then again, this was quite the wedding. A royal wedding, if not _the_ wedding so no expense would be spared. Besides his shift was almost over…he might be a tad bit late to his next lesson under the lunatic that was Alina but she couldn't murder him for obeying an order from the King.

Apart from what looked like a hungry peasant counting his meager supply of coins, the shop was mercifully empty and the baker didn't give him much trouble.

It was only leaving the baker's, that a carriage-at that moment-bolted past. In his haste to get out of the way, Jaime stepped back a bit too quickly…and ended up flat on his back. He looked up, the sun in his eyes…until the dark shadow of a cloak obscured his vision.

Black spots still dancing in his line of vision, Jaime couldn't quite make out a face under the hood. Then the sun returned. Whoever the bastard was, they didn't even have the decency to help him up. Jaime swallowed the anger and humiliation that felt hot in his throat.

Instinctively, he placed his right hand on the ground to support himself in sitting up…or rather his stump. Jaime jerked…yes it was the stump. His facsimile of another hand was no longer around his wrist.

"Well well what do we have here?" Shit.

Still on his side, Jaime turned his head to see Ser Meryn Trant…looking rather smug. Choosing instead to ignore him, Jaime finally caught sight of his hand…which he had only begun to reach for when Meryn stepped on it.

"Lord Commander or Lord Cripple?" he smirked.

"Ser Meryn or Ser Moron?" Jaime spat back. Would that it was his left hand cut instead of his right. He'd slice Meryn's head right here and now. However, Meryn responded with a sharp headache inducing steel plated kick to Jaime's head. The taste of blood filled his mouth.

Of course no one was stepping up on his behalf. Cripple. Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. Man Without Honor.

"Perhaps I should remove your tongue as well, Kingslayer?" Meryn snapped as Jaime slowly made his way onto his hands…well hand and knees. He vaguely remembered being late…but late for what…he couldn't quite remember. His head was still foggy…felt like it was full of sand.

Then he heard it.

It was the unmistakable whoosh of an arrow through the air in a graceful deadly arc. Meryn unsheathed his blade in a hurry, head whipping around as he furiously tried to find the source. Jaime's vision clearing, he saw a slight trickle of blood down Meryn's face. Nothing like the cut Alina had given him. This was more like if Meryn had cut himself shaving.

It was enough. Taking care to viciously spit at Jaime once, Meryn grunted and stalked off, leaving Jaime alone once again.

"Lord Commander?"

Who in the Seven Hells was it now? Jaime, green eyes blazing, staggered to his feet…looking into the frightened dark eyes of the peasant he had seen earlier. Shaking slightly, the boy handed him his fake hand.

Now this was…unexpected. Wordlessly, Jaime nodded in thanks, relieving the peasant of their burden, even though it would probably keep the boy in good meals for a month. But as the boy nodded back and turned to go back in the bakery, Jaime thought he heard the jingle of coin in his pocket. It sounded like a considerably larger amount than he had noticed in the shop.

* * *

><p>Tired and more than a little depressed, Jaime dragged himself to the White Sword Tower, up to the floor that was solely his, what with Jaime's position as Lord Commander. Thankfully no one else was in the Tower at the moment so he could trudge along without being bothered. He wanted a bath, a nap, and then dinner. Alina be damned.<p>

After removing his armor in one room, he stomped into what was his bathroom…only to find a chamber pot…and no tub.

He blinked a few times. What merit was there in stealing the Lord Commander's tub?

No bath then. Jaime could always buy another one. Then, given his current mood, he'd drown whoever had taken it.

He stomped along to his bedroom…and he swore by the Seven he could hear something twist inside him, on the very brink of snapping.

In the corner of his room, away from the window, was the tub…and in it was Alina. Her head was back against the rim, eyes closed…until she turned her head slightly to look at him, those cold blue eyes calmly staring at him as she opened her sight.

They silently stared at one another.

Jaime swallowed. Alina looked like he was just there for decoration.

"You're bleeding again" she said finally.

"Am I?" Jaime replied through gritted teeth. He hadn't quite noticed until now.

"Looks better on you than Ser Meryn" Alina sighed.

Jaime now had half a mind to follow up on the drowning.

"How did you…" Jaime stopped half way, slowly breathing out, raising his eyes to the ceiling. The Gods were clearly bored today.

"I told you I would drag your ass back to your lesson if I had to. You were late. I thought perhaps either I failed to mention punctuality or that you were too stupid to even think of such a concept"

Wouldn't it be terribly amusing if Jaime kicked the folded robe sitting next to the tub away? He had even taken a step forward when;

"I'd appreciate it if you'd act a shred of the gentleman and turn your back"

Though this was probably a death wish, Jaime felt a rather cruel smirk form on his face. Two could play at this.

"Well you're in my house. My house, my rules"

He was halfway across the room. Alina's eyes fixed on him once more and her hand suddenly lashed out from under the water. Jaime saw the sharp flash of steel before ducking and raising his hands to shield his head. Turning, he saw a knife had imbedded itself in the wall.

Looking back, he saw Alina, standing, now in a long grey robe. Her dark black hair was wet and shiny in the sun. He couldn't quite make out the lone white streak. It was all he could do to glare mutinously.

Whatever he had done to anger the Gods this time, Jaime didn't care, he would atone for it if it meant this woman would leave him be.

Alina tried to dry her hair as best she could with a nearby towel before folding it neatly and placing it on the floor.

"Brienne seems to think the world of you" she said.

Jaime's stiff posture softened slightly.

"She…When did she talk to you?" Jaime swallowed again. Alina slowly walked to stand in front of him, her blue gaze matching his narrow eyed green one.

"The infamous Kingslayer…a changed man"

Alina had meant no offense by this. If anything, it could have been an interpretation of how she wanted to believe what Brienne had said. But at the utterance of the nickname that had stuck for so long, from her of all people, Jaime felt a snap somewhere inside him.

His left hand shot to her neck and slammed Alina to the wall like she was a child. He heard the thud of the back of her head hitting the wall as it dropped forward slightly, her breath against his fingers.

Seeing himself reflected in her blue eyes, Jaime saw the pupils dilate, a flicker of shock, pain…and for a brief second…just an instant…terror.

"Take your hands off my neck" she whispered. Jaime wanted to squeeze just to show that he was nobody's bitch. "_Please_" Alina whimpered. She actually whimpered…a sound Jaime would not have even thought her capable of.

To both their surprise, Jaime slowly took his hand off her.

"I'm…sorry" he sighed. "I'd…I'd like it if you didn't call me that"

He felt the stirrings of guilt in his stomach. Slowly again, he awkwardly wrapped his arms around Alina.

Jaime knew Alina was no Cersei…but this was what men generally did in an attempt to comfort a woman. Alina's dark wet hair was cold to his skin.

"Can I sit down?" her voice was unexpectedly small, body trembling. Jaime led her toward the edge of his bed. One hand on her back, he still felt the tremors.

Then he saw her slowly lift her eyes from the floor…and her back snap to its instant stiffness and Jaime knew he had made a mistake.

Like a snake, her hand whipped across his face before her fingers dug into the fabric of his tunic and shoved him on his back against the soft mattress. Climbing atop him as a woman with her lover, or more appropriately, a wolf with its prey, her fingers wrapped themselves around his throat and squeezed.

"_Remember what I said about desperate, Kingslayer_?" she hissed. "Do you really think anyone would give a shit if they found you strangled to death in bed?"

Jaime choked, remembering what she had said about desperation. His fingers had only shifted to try and get at her own throat when she slammed her foot down on his left wrist.

"You touch my_ neck_ or any other part of me again and I swear to you, you will not live to regret it"

By the way she referred to her neck, one might think he'd put his hand between her legs or on her chest.

"You will fucking show up tomorrow or I will" Alina snarled, taking care to dig her short fingernails into his skin.

And with that, Alina took her leave. Jaime lay there, staring silently up at the ceiling. Where in the Seven Hells did Tyrion find this creature and what on earth was wrong with her?


End file.
